Round as Potter's Glasses
by Forsaken Elf
Summary: Draco mulls over his father's reaction to him coming out, and Harry eavesdrops. Their love escalates from there, as does the danger of them being together. Slash DM/HP
1. You Aren't Alone

**-Round as Potter's Glasses-**

**Chap. 1**

The 7th year Slytherin rested on the grass next to the lake, hands behind his head and thoughts in another time, a different day. The day he came out of the closet.

It was the most nerve-wracking thing he'd ever done in his life, coming out to his parents. He'd planned it quite well, though- the day before he'd left for Hogwarts. He wouldn't have to bear his father's disgusted looks or snide comments for more than a few hours, even though they rang out in his head constantly.

_"You will date only girls, marry a girl and I don't care if it _**_kills_**_ you! There are _**_no_**_ fags in the Malfoy family!" he yelled as his mother sobbed almost hysterically._

For two days Draco had kept it all in, pretending to be his usual self-- the sneers, the smirks, the I'm-better-than-you-and-you-know-it attitude, but this time he wanted to get away from it all so he could let go.

Right now, the moon was his companion, cold and distant though it may be. But it did remind him of something comforting...

"Round as Potter's glasses..." he said quietly to himself, recalling with ease the black frames that encased two emerald green eyes. They usually regarded him with contempt or anger or indifference, but that didn't keep Draco from worshiping them.

They were his color, after all.

_"Slytherins are pure, Slytherins are better! You disgrace both that house and ours!"_

Draco sat up, furious at the voice that wouldn't give him peace. "Sod you, Lucius!" he growled into the night air, ripping out a clump of grass and throwing it hard into the lake. "Sod you, I can love _whoever_ I want without your _sodding_ approval so just go to hell!" he yelled, ripping out clump after clump. "I'm gay and you can just shove it up your arse if you don't like it!"

His words seemed to echo around him, but it felt so good to yell that he never thought of keeping his voice down. He bowed his head, breathing hard with tears in his eyes and dirt all over his hands and robe.

For a moment he just sat there, trying to regain some semblance of sanity, when he heard a sound to his right. It sounded kind of like his breathing was echoing- it wasn't _that_ loud, was it?

Abruptly, he held his breath and the other breathing continued, but just for a moment until there was a soft gasp and it stopped.

Draco's face paled and he felt his insides freeze. No one was there, he saw out of the corner of his eye, at least no one he could see.

With the lightning fast reflexes of a snake, he whipped out his wand and silently cursed where he thought the breathing had come from with a trip jinx. There was a sound of someone hitting the ground and the grass flattened in the shape of a body.

Starting to panic, Draco reached out until he felt cloth and pulled, ripping off an Invisibility Cloak to reveal a disheveled and rather surprised Harry Potter.

Draco jumped up, trying to keep his composure as Harry stood, brushing himself off.

"How long have you been there, Potter?" he demanded fiercely, holding his wand at Harry's chest, right over his heart. His heart was pounding in his ears– what if Potter knew? What if he _told_?

"Long enough," he answered, his voice quiet. Even in his panic, Draco couldn't mistake the gentleness in the other boy's eyes for triumph or mockery.

"Say anything to anyone and I will _kill_ you," Draco snapped, hiding his confusion and fright behind fury.

"I won't," he said simply, moving closer. Draco, thoroughly paranoid by now, thought he might whip out his wand at the last second– but no, both of Potter's hands were cupping Draco's face now.

Wait, what?

Before Draco realized what was happening, Harry kissed him hard on the mouth. The wand slipped out of Draco's hand, falling into the grass unnoticed as he felt his whole body go pleasantly limp. Whatever was happening – Draco couldn't quite comprehend the idea yet– he wanted more of it.

But after only a moment, Harry pulled away slowly, teeth raking Draco's bottom lip ever so slightly to leave the other boy gasping and trembling. "You aren't alone," he said, looking into his eyes solemnly. Draco twitched in what looked like a nod, so, satisfied, Harry turned away and picked up his Invisibility Cloak. Draco almost called him back, but the words "Harry, wait" got lost on their way from his brain to his tingling lips and the other boy walked away without looking back.

After Draco was sure he was gone, he closed his eyes and touched his lips as though to imprint the feeling on them forever. And for once, the scolding voice of his father was silent.

He walked back to his dorm, making sure to take his time. He was too emotionally drained to hold a conversation with anyone still up, and didn't want to, either way. He didn't want to stop thinking about that kiss. Luckily, everyone in the dorm was fast asleep and he curled into his bed unnoticed, letting out a soft sigh.

For the first time in a long time, he fell asleep smiling.

* * *

A/N: So... d'you like it so far? I rewrote this chapter because this story was initially supposed to be a oneshot, and trying to turn a oneshot into a story just doesn't work. To the people who read the first chapter before I changed it... do you like this one better? I hope so.  
Either way, continue on, dear reader, and I hope you enjoy the journey.


	2. The Letter and the Threat

It was two weeks after that night- the kiss- when Lucius finally wrote to him.

Draco was lounging in the Slytherin Common Room, allowing Pansy to rest her head in his lap even though the longer she laid there, the more his stomach felt uneasy. His friends sat on the opposite couch, having a heated conversation about some Quidditch player or another, but other than themselves, the room was empty.

An incredibly regal-looking owl came in soon after and landed onto the couch they were sitting on. He absentmindedly pushed Pansy away, ignoring the soft moan she uttered at losing contact with him, and pulled the letter off the owl's leg.

Crabbe, Goyle and Blaise paused their conversation about Quidditch to look over. "Who's it from?" Blaise asked.

Draco stared for a few moments at the scroll in his hand, frowning slightly. "My father," he said simply, voice cool, and he got up and walked out of the common room. He had a feeling that whatever was in this letter was not something he wanted anyone else to see.

He walked briskly down the hall, eyes on his feet, not even noticing when he passed the Golden Trio.

Hermione and Ron glanced at Harry who watched the Slytherin pass, the letter clutched in his hand, and Harry sighed. "I'll catch you up, alright?" he said quietly to them after Draco was out of sight.

"Good luck," Hermione said softly. Harry smiled at her briefly before turning around and following Draco. He'd come out to both of his friends and, after the shock wore off, he told them how he first realized it. Ron, Harry remembered with a wry grin, had fainted.

Soon, Harry found Draco near the lake, sitting cross-legged and bent over a piece of parchment. Harry kept his distance for now and took to looking up at the sky. It was a dark Saturday morning; grey clouds swirled overhead, and the air seemed to buzz with energy just waiting to be unleashed in the form of lightning. It was a little windy, but deliciously warm nonetheless.

Harry looked back down at Draco, who, he noticed with some surprise, was staring at him intently. Harry walked the rest of the way down to the lake and sat beside him. "Is everything okay?" he asked, as though they'd been friends for years.

Draco laughed bitterly and thrust the letter at him. Harry frowned, looking down at the very neat, slanted handwriting, and read:

_Draco,_

_We've decided that we will not disown you. However, you will marry a Slytherin female and I will not permit you to date other men. That is absolutely sickening and I will not have it. As you know, I have connections in Hogwarts and should I hear a rumor that you're dating a male, I will put you in a muggle high school. This is not an empty threat- I have enrollment forms in my hand as I write this. Do not test me._

**_Lucius_**

Harry read it through twice, wondering vaguely how someone could treat their child like that, and very calmly rolled it up and stuck it in the mud next to the lake.

For several minutes, neither of them said a word. Draco never took his eyes off the water, it's dark depths reflecting the sky... and Harry never took his eyes off of him.

It was Draco who finally broke the silence. "Why did you follow me that night?"

The corner of Harry's lip twitched up into a smile, and he said softly, "You mean the night I kissed you?"

Draco cut him a dark look. "Why, have there been other times?"

Harry chuckled, and said, "I was actually planning on going to Hagrid's. He said he had something important to show me- some illegal creature, I'm sure- but he didn't want to get me in trouble, so I should only come down if I thought I could risk it. I was halfway across the grounds when I saw you, and you seemed upset, so I figured your need was greater than Hagrid's."

"So you _sat there_ and bloody eavesdropped on me while I was talking to myself?"

Harry grinned. "No, I _stood_ there and eavesdropped, Malfoy. Why do you sound so annoyed? I was just trying to help." Harry laid back, resting his head on his hands and looking up at the dangerously dark sky.

"You call making me more confused than I already was 'helping'? Coming out of the closet for the first time to parents who hate me is enough as it is without you sneaking up and snogging me," Draco said, his voice a little cool.

"I apologize then. But I meant what I said..." Harry looked at him again, being perfectly serious, "you aren't alone."

Draco mumbled something, turning away from the other boy.

"What was that, Draco, darling?" Harry asked smoothly, smirking.

Draco looked up at him, one eyebrow raised. "First off, never call me that again, Potter. And I said... I said you didn't need to apologize. I enjoyed..." he trailed off, looking as though he had a very bad taste in his mouth. "You know, I really hate this sentimental crap."

Harry chuckled. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure pretending to be bitter enemies with me has really worn you down in that respect."

In one swift movement, Draco had reached inside his robes and whipped out his wand, pointing it just between Harry's eyes. It was his turn to smirk. "Who says we've stopped being enemies?"

Harry sat up a little and gently bit the end of Draco's wand, smiling when he heard the other boy's quiet gasp. "I do," the raven-haired boy said out the side of his mouth.

"Sometimes, Potter," Draco said, trying to keep his voice even as he pulled his wand out of the other boy's mouth, "I sincerely think you've gone mad."

Harry laughed, getting up and brushing his robes off, looking pleased with himself. "Well, I'll see you around, Draco," he said nonchalantly, turning around to leave.

"Wait, you're leaving?" the blond asked, confused at the sudden departure and standing as well.

Harry turned and shrugged. "I've got to meet Ron and Hermione in the library, we were about to study."

Draco nodded, looking down and putting his wand back inside his robes. Suddenly, Harry was standing very close to him, and before he could even look up, Harry's mouth was covering his. Draco's heart immediately began to race, but he returned the kiss this time, both boys' lips moving and pressing hard against each other.

Just as Draco began to relax against Harry, the emerald-eyed boy pulled away, his breath uneven. "I'm sorry," he said in a hushed voice.

Draco, whose mind was still trying to soak everything in and having some difficulty, chuckled, and answered, "I hope you don't apologize every time we kiss, Potter."

"Are you implying that you would like to do this again?" Harry asked, catching his breath and smiling in a rather devilish way. However, before Draco could answer, a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky and there was a fierce crash of thunder, shaking the leaves on the trees.

"I think that's our cue to go in," the Gryffindor muttered, and Draco nodded. He did not really care if they got caught in the rain but knowing Pansy would be looking for him soon enough made him agree.

"'Till next time, then, Potter," Malfoy said, nodding once in his direction. He then turned, brought his foot down on the rolled up letter still sticking out of the mud, and made his way back up to the castle without another word.

Harry watched him go, a warm smile on his face. "'Till next time, Darling."


	3. Gryffindor vs Slytherin

**Chapter Three**

They were only 20 behind. Two goals _should_ have been easy to manage, but the new chasers on the Slytherin team were, for lack of a better term, _terrible_.

He watched as one of the chasers let the quaffle fly through his fingers and hit a beater on the back with a resounding thump, nearly knocking the kid off his seat.

Frowning, slightly disgusted, he continued to circle the stadium, watching for the tell tale glint of gold so that he could save his team from an incredibly embarrassing lose.

Sighing, he looked up for the millionth time to see the seeker lazily flying above him as though he didn't have a care in the world. The boy looked down at him and gave him a small smile before continuing on -- they couldn't make eyes at each other in such a public place, but Draco couldn't seem to stop staring.

Trying to occupy himself while the snitch stayed in hiding, he looked around at the scenery. Besides the stands full of cheering people, there wasn't much to see -- it was a foggy, grey day with dull clouds hanging low around them. It had been drizzling on and off for a few days now, and ever since the storm Harry and he had almost been caught in, the rain seemed reluctant to cease.

_Well, that's Scotland for you_, the blond thought, sighing again.

He looked up once more -- Potter was hovering over him, several yards up. This time it was the blond who smiled, and watched as the raven haired boy ran one finger down the wood of his broomstick.

Shivering as though an invisible finger had done the same down his back, he looked away, a blush coming to his cheeks.

It was the 11th of November, the day of the first Quidditch match in the season. Harry and Draco had hardly gotten a moment alone since they last met, for after Draco had received his father's letter, Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise and Pansy had all become annoyingly clingy. No matter what he said or did, at least one of them was around wherever he was. Plan after plan had been foiled in an attempt to see Potter because of them, and while he was growing frustrated beyond all reason and increasingly desperate to see his boy, he showed none of it. His clingy friends would have to sleep sometime, and Draco hadn't been put in cunning Slytherin for no reason.

He snapped out of his reverie when he heard the commentator, some Hufflepuff boy, say that Gryffindor had made another goal. A roar came up from the Gryffindor section of the stadium, and he glanced up to see Harry's reaction.

However, Harry was focused on something entirely different, and half a moment later he shot off across the field. Draco saw what he was looking at -- that tiny golden flutter near the spectators on the far side.

Quickly, he kicked into action and soared after the snitch as well. Potter had a good lead but he was quickly catching up, and soon they were just feet away from each other, the snitch about four feet ahead, fluttering frantically in an attempt to stay free.

They both reached out at the same time when the snitch took a sharp turn up toward the safety of the clouds. Both of the boys turned up immediately, wind whipping past them, taking the breath out of their lungs as they pushed forward.

The snitch flew out of sight but their pursuit never ceased -- they both flew into the light grey cloud after it.

It was a bit difficult to breathe in the cloud and Draco could feel himself getting soaked, but only a moment later both he and Harry came up on top of it.

Harry, also soaked and his glasses fogged, had the snitch tight in one hand, trying to catch his breath.

"Sodding hell," the blond muttered, knowing the kind of greeting he would get back in the Slytherin common room, but then he realized something: they were alone. Not as Gryffindor and Slytherin, but as the two boys who couldn't get their minds off of each other. Blissfully, entirely alone.

Draco looked around quickly- he couldn't see anything but grey below them and around them, meaning no one else could see them.

Their eyes only had to meet for half a second before their roles as seekers were forgotten and they were in each other's arms, hovering next to each other on their brooms and mouths pressed together in a fierce kiss to make up for all the kisses they had missed out on for the passed few days.

Several seconds passed like this before Draco pulled away, gasping, "I bloody can't stop thinking about you, Potter- Grabbe and Coyle- I mean, well, whatever- they won't sodding leave me alone- I can't--"

"Don't worry about it," Harry said quietly, cutting him off. A small smirk touched his lips, "Anyway, I thought you didn't like that 'sentimental crap'. Why are you apologizing, darling?"

Draco stopped sputtering and sighed. "Potter, I told you not to--"

He was cut off yet again by a sound that reached them simultaneously- the unmistakable sound of a bludger hurtling closer. Before either one of them could even grab their brooms to move away, a dark brown blur flew up with unmatchable speed and, with a sickening crack, slammed into Harry's stomach. The unconscious Gryffindor was ripped out of Draco's arms and slipped out of his broom, the snitch flying from his hand as he fell through the sky.

A bolt of fear shot through Draco and he dived, pressing himself close to the broom to go faster. He went back through the cloud, the moisture definitely not helping his hands become any less numb, and when he emerged, Harry was just a few feet away. He reached out and grabbed the other boy's cold hand, but it slipped through his grip and he continued to fall. He dove again, reaching out and grabbing his arm. The material was slippery and began sliding through his numb grip instantly so he let go of the broom to hold on with the other hand.

He glanced up to see several players and the referee speeding toward them. Relieved, he took a shaky but deep breath in, concentrating on holding on to the broom with his legs.

Then, quite suddenly, there was an explosion of pain in the back of Draco's head and the world seemed to flicker away, but not before the screams of thousands of students assaulted his ears. Then the suffocating darkness closed down on him, and he knew no more.


	4. In Which a Deal is Made

**Chapter Four**

Soft murmurs, dry warmth...

He let out a soft noise, but even the energy it took to do that was too much, and a brief but blinding pain seared through his skull.

"Is he awake?" he heard someone whisper. "Draco? You there?"

He felt two hands pull him up and the faint smell of a woman's perfume met him. "Open your mouth, dear. This will help the pain."

He did as he was told and a very hot liquid was poured into his mouth. Quickly he swallowed, and then was laid back down on the bed. The back of his head tingled a little, and then the feeling faded along with the pain. He opened his eyes and the image of Madame Pomphrey swam into focus.

"That's it. You'll be fine- you took a nasty blow to the head by a bludger, and we'll have to keep you overnight. You've already taken another potion that will have your skull fixed nicely by tomorrow afternoon," she said kindly, and then looked across the bed at someone else. "Don't badger him to talk, alright?"

Draco turned his head to see the two beaters on his team standing there and nodding. They were still dressed in their Quidditch clothes, and rather wet. Madame Pomphrey walked away and the two 5th years looked down at him, one frowning and the other smiling sheepishly.

"Which... which one-a you hit that bludger?" Draco asked quietly, his words slurred a bit.

The one who had been smiling glanced at the other beater and then said, "Er, I did, Draco. But, uh- at least I hit Potter real good, right?"

Draco kept his face straight as he asked, "You're Jeffrey Stede, right?" He tried to keep his eyes in focus as the other boy nodded. "Be prepared to sleep with one eye open for the rest of your life, understand?"

The other boy paled slightly and he and his companion left quickly.

"Idiots," Draco muttered as he yawned, making a mental note to get Crabbe and Goyle to beat the snot out of the kid. He sat up slowly, looking around. It was dark except for a few dim candles hovering high above many empty beds- well, save one.

Laying several beds away across the room was Potter with Hermione hovering over him. Madame Pomphrey was talking to the bushy haired girl quietly and Hermione was nodding.

"Alright, Madame," she said, and glanced at Draco. She paused and then dipped her head down next to Harry's, whispering something before she was shooed out by Madame Pomphrey.

"Do you think you'll need a Sleeping Potion, Mr. Potter?" the woman asked, and Harry shook his head.

"I'll get on fine, thanks," he answered, cuddling down into the covers and closing his eyes. Satisfied, she walked away into her office and closed the door behind her with a soft click.

For a moment, that noise resonated in the silence. As soon as it faded, however, Potter slipped out of bed silently, putting on his glasses as he walked over.

"How's your head feeling?" he whispered.

Draco reached back and tenderly touched his head, the tips of his fingers brushing over the bandage. Nothing. He pressed a little harder and though it felt like it should have hurt, he didn't really feel anything at all.

"Madame Pomphrey numbed it," he answered quietly as the boy sat on his bed. He leaned over and kissed Harry on the cheek, surprising him slightly but making him smile.

"Hermione told me when I dropped out of the clouds, you were doing everything you could to hold on to me," Harry said softly, looking more serious now.

"Well... yeah," he answered simply.

"The whole school saw," Harry murmured, slipping his hand into Draco's.

"I figured as much," Draco said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "It wasn't like I planned it. You were falling and I panicked."

Harry chuckled, "Don't apologize; it's not like I'm not grateful for you trying to save me. I was just reminding you that if you were trying to keep us off the map where gossip and speculation is concerned, you... well, failed. Hermione told me earlier that everyone's talking about it, and the news that I'm gay is spreading just as fast. I don't care about anyone knowing about me, but that might not be so good for _your_ reputation." He paused, seeing Draco's expression fall, and added quickly, "Then again, that depends on whether or not they put two and two together, and Hogwarts tends to not do that so much."

Draco felt his stomach clench up in dread and felt a dull headache coming on despite Harry's attempted consolation. "I really, really wish I could say that I don't care, too, Potter," he muttered.

"You _can_," Harry said, a smile touching his lips. "Just say it. It feels good."

Draco stared at him. "I can't just say it if I don't mean it. My whole way of life rests on whether I'm found out or not, Potter, I can't just say I don't care."

"You just now said it. Now take out all that other crap and say it again."

Draco hesitated still, frowning slightly. It was a stupid ploy to make him feel better or something, he knew, but it still held some importance to him.

After a moment, Harry gave a theatrical sigh. "Well, darling-" Draco scowled at his pet name -"I'm sorry it had to come to this, but I will do what I must to get you to speak." With that, he leaned over Draco's body and kissed his bottom lip tenderly, nibbling for half a moment on the soft flesh and sending goosebumps up and down the blond's body. He tried to return the kiss, but Harry pulled away.

"Do you still care?" he asked softly, peering through his glasses at Draco who's face couldn't seem to decide on an expression. He looked nervous and unhappy but Harry's kiss had left him trembling with desire.

A sound came from Madame Pomphrey's office and Draco nearly jumped out of his skin. "Potter, what if she sees you?" he hissed.

Harry didn't move- looked perfectly nonchalant, in fact- and after a few moments, the bustling stopped and it was quiet again.

"If she sees me then one more person will know I'm into guys, and I happen to be alright with that."

"Potter, you _know_ why no one can know about me! My father would kill us both," he said fiercely, almost forgetting to keep his voice down.

"I don't know about you, but he's already tried that with me and I'm still breathing," Harry answered, the tiniest edge of coldness in his voice.

"Well, don't get mad at me for the things he's done because he's Voldemort's whore," Draco answered quietly, cooling down somewhat when he realized that Lucius had done Harry damage as well. He felt less alone and resented his father even more all at once.

"I'm not mad at you," Harry answered after a moment. "I'm just tired of how much Lucius has a hold on you. If anything, _you_ should disown _him_."

The notion made Draco smile slightly, but he replied, "He's my father. It's because of him that I have a life at all."

Harry stifled a yawn, resting his head on Draco's shoulder. "Too bad he's not letting you live it," he said softly, wrapping his arms around the other boy's torso and kissing his jaw.

Draco felt the truth of those words as though they were tangible, but everything sort of floated away when Potter's lips were on him.

"I'll make a deal with you," Harry said a few moments later, voice muffled as he had his mouth pressed against Draco's collar bone.

Draco opened one eye and looked down. "Hmm?"

"I'll do something so mad, so stupid, that it'll make not caring look like an easy task," he answered. Draco scoffed, but Harry continued, "It has to be bad enough to get me in detention and people will talk about it for weeks."

Draco thought a moment, and then a rare grin slid onto his face, brightening his features. "In exchange for...?"

"You have to say you don't care and then come to Hogsmeade with me, Ron and Hermione."

The blond sat back against the headboard, sea-grey eyes solemn. Well, if Harry was going to give up his free time in detention doing something boring for who knows how long, he supposed he could brave this one task.

"Alright, I agree," Draco said quietly, and they shook hands.

"Excellent," he murmured, returning to the soft kisses he'd been placing across Draco's collarbone. The Malfoy sighed softly, noting how deliciously right it felt to be with him like this. If he ever did get to sleep, he was certain to have excellent dreams.

"Mr. Potter, _what are you **doing** in Malfoy's bed_!?"

Unbeknownst to them, Madame Pomphrey had slipped out to check on them one last time before she went to sleep.

Harry chuckled to himself and rolled out of bed whispering, "I do hope I hear that phrase more often."

Draco blushed, feeling his mouth go dry. So now Madame Pomphrey knew. He didn't think she quite comprehended it, but she most definitely knew.

Harry walked back to his bed, smiling. "Sorry, Madame. Don't worry, Draco's on the pill."

Draco felt his cheeks burn but laughed all the same, even more so at the way Madame Pomphrey stood there gaping.

"We were just talking, Madame, I think the medicine has made Potter a bit daft," Draco said, stifling his laughter as quickly as possible.

Madame Pomphrey cleared her throat and waited for Harry to settle down into bed. When he did, she said with a stern finality, "Sleep."

Draco slid back into his covers resting the side of his head on the pillow. It was soft and welcoming, beckoning him to sleep, but he forced himself to stay awake until she went back into her office which wasn't for another several minutes. She bustled about, making sure everything was clean and perfect, but Draco knew she just did it to make sure they were sleeping by the time she went back.

When she retired to her office for the second time and the soft click of her door was heard, Draco said softly, "Was that it?"

Harry rolled over in his bed, looking in his general direction. His glasses were on the nightstand, though, and Draco knew he couldn't see him.

"What do you mean?" he whispered back. Harry's voice was thick and he yawned just after he spoke-- it was like the old witch had put a spell on them to make sure they didn't get back up. Or maybe, he thought as he struggled to keep his eyes open, it's just these deliciously soft pillows.

"The bet. Was that it?" Draco repeated through a yawn.

"Didn't get detention... doesn't count."

Draco was asleep before he could mumble out 'okay'.

* * *

**A/N:** So, do you like where the story is going? Unfortunately it seems as though every time those poor boys get a moment together, they're interrupted. Hopefully their luck improves in the upcoming chapters-- and now my best friend is kicking my butt to get this finished so she can read it, so the next chapter is already under way. Let's just hope I can ward off writer's block until it's done. 


	5. Something Stupid

Chapter Five

_Draco writhed underneath the warm body as kiss after kiss assaulted his mouth, hands roaming all over the other boy's body. The sheets around them were twisted and bundled by now, but he hardly needed their heat– he was already soaked with sweat._

_"I love you," Harry said quietly, his voice rather hoarse. Draco smiled, letting those words wash over him for a moment before he responded._

_"I love you, too, Potter."_

_He never knew how perfect it would sound until they were out of his mouth. He grinned, feeling alive, feeling at home as Harry make a trail of kisses from his jaw to his shoulder. He hardly wanted him to stop, but he needed to look into his eyes to make this whole thing real. It was so dark all around them that even most of Harry's body and face were in shadow, and he could only just make out the bed underneath them._

_"Hold on, hold on," Draco said softly, sitting up a little. Harry complied, straddling his waist as he sat up."Just let me see your eyes. Just let me look into them."_

_He heard Potter chuckle. "Alright," he answered softly, leaning forward. His face became clear but somehow his glasses were blocking his eyes. Draco reached up and gently pulled them off, smiling as he waited to see that breath-taking glint of emerald._

_Never, never in his life had Draco felt so horrified. The terror tingled in his hands and seemed to turn his whole being into a cold, shaking mess._

_Draco couldn't see Harry's eyes because he didn't _have_ eyes. Two vacant, black holes stared back at him, devoid of absolutely anything._

_Before he could even begin to try to get away, Lucius loomed up behind Potter, wand in hand. "Draco..." he hissed softly, raising his wand to point at Harry._

_"F-father! No, wait! WAIT!"  
_

_"AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

"NOOOO!"

Draco sat up swiftly, the world black around him until his eyes adjusted and he realized he was just in his dormitory. He wiped the cold sweat from his face, his heart still beating rapidly– it was a miracle that no one woke up because of his shouting.

He got out of bed silently, walking out of the dorm and into the common room. Part of him longed for companionship– he wanted so badly to get that dream out of the foreground of his mind– but at the same time, no one from Slytherin would care about his dream or about giving him comfort. A _real _Slytherin wouldn't let something that stupid get to him.

"_Slytherins are pure, Slytherins are better!"_

His father's voice rang out in his head again, clear and solid as though he were right there beside him. A ripple of resentment washed over Draco and he practically stormed into the common room, his trademark scowl marring his features.

"Oh, Draco. You couldn't sleep, either?"

He was standing a few feet behind the couch and couldn't see who was laying in it, but he knew that voice all too well.

"No, Pansy, I couldn't," he answered stonily, coming around to the front of the couch where she was laying. Her hair was splayed out on the pillow and she wore Slytherin pajama pants and a simple green t-shirt.

"No ones around," she said rather suggestively, hands moving across her body, toying with the hem of her shirt.

They had been 'dating' since second year– more like she kissed him and he went along with it because it pleased Lucius. It was pleasant, he supposed– when your hormones are going crazy, kissing anything, including a stone wall (which was rather what kissing Pansy felt like) would satisfy to some extent. But every kiss, every touch was _nothing _to what it was like with Potter. Flames flew up under his skin when they kissed, burning him in the best way possible. Even the thought of a kiss from him could make his heart quicken– but now that he knew what that felt like, how could he go back to pretending to love Pansy? Even touching her seemed rather revolting.

"Just don't," he muttered, looking away as though he were ashamed.

She sat up. "Don't _what_?"

"I don't..." Well, what was he going to say? He couldn't tell the truth, and while he was an excellent liar, there was hardly a story he could make up now that she would believe.

"There's someone else, isn't there?" she demanded, eyes flashing.

Well, it was the truth. "Yes," he said simply, looking her in the eye. While he hadn't completely admitted that he was with Potter, it was a step in the right direction and already he felt a small part of an extremely heavy burden lift off of his chest. "Yeah, I've been sort of seeing this person for a few weeks."

She looked about ready to cry. He knew that it was hardly about him, but more about the family name- being a Malfoy by blood or by marriage meant you had power, money and a lot of influence.

Well, he thought, I'd be bloody glad to trade with you.

She stood up, her cheeks red and her fists clenched. "I will find out who it is, Draco, and after that I won't have a problem winning you back," she said through clenched teeth.

"You won't? How so?" he asked, much calmer than he expected to be.

"Because I will have eliminated the competition," she spat, and ran up the stairs to her dorm, furious.

Draco sighed heavily, putting his head in his hands and closing his eyes. Two death threats in one evening, Potter... things aren't looking up for you, he thought bitterly.

Draco didn't sleep at all that evening, but instead trudged through his classes as best he could. He'd just gotten out of Transfiguration when he heard someone calling his name from across the hall.

"Draco! Come here!" It was Pansy.

"I can't! I have to go to the library, get some stuff," he answered, and quickly turned the other way, almost running down the hall. He hadn't been planning to, of course, but McGonagall had just assigned a long essay and he might as well get his studying done then and there.

The halls cleared fairly quickly- quite a few 6th and 7th years went into the library and other years either to classes or their dorms for some free time. This was a blessing and a curse- he didn't want to talk to anyone but most of all he didn't want to talk to Pansy and that would be harder to do if he couldn't disappear into the crowd.

Luckily, however, he entered the huge doors unscathed and went to a table, setting down his books and looking around. Walls of books towered over him- where would he start? He randomly pulled a worn book out of the shelf and read the title: The Art of Transfiguration: Mammals.

"Well, that was a lucky pick," he muttered to himself, flipping through the pages to see if anything caught his eye.

"Draco?"

The blond looked up from the book and saw Harry, Ron and Hermione at the end of the aisle. Draco smiled a little- it had been two days since they'd been in the Hospital Wing and he hadn't seen Harry since. Draco glanced around to make sure no one else was around- nope, they were alone- and Harry walked up to him with the two others following. Hermione was smiling politely but Ron looked as though he'd love to melt into the floor and disappear.

"How've you been?" Harry asked quietly, close but not touching him.

"Absolutely wonderful," Draco answered with a hint of sarcasm. "You?"

"Just about the same," he answered. "I don't mean to be a gossip, but I did hear you dumped Pansy last night."

"That's going around _already_?" Draco whispered incredulously.

"So you did dump her." Harry's voice was flat as though he wasn't pleased.

"Well, yeah... why aren't you jumping for joy?" Draco asked cautiously.

"Well, Draco," Hermione jumped in, keeping her voice down as well, "it's harder to accuse someone of being gay if they're openly dating girls."

"Right," Draco muttered, mentally punching himself for not thinking of that before. Pansy was his anchor and now he'd lost her.

After a moment Harry shrugged, "I still don't think it's enough for the gossipers of Hogwarts, though," and gave him a small smile of reassurance.

After a slightly awkward silence in which Draco wished vehemently that Hermione and Ron would go away, he sighed and said quietly, "I had a dream about you. My father killed you and I was right there and..." No, no, no. You will not get choked up in front of Weasley, you will NOT!

Harry saw the pain in his eyes and strode forward, pulling him into a brief but comforting hug. "It's just your subconscious playing out your worst fear, I'm guessing. And it's not like I haven't thwarted him before, right?"

Draco had his doubts but nodded. "I suppose."

"Harry," Hermione said softly, looking at Draco apologetically, "we should probably start on our essays."

Harry visibly gritted his teeth but said quietly, "Yeah, you're right... I'll see you soon, then, Draco?" Draco desperately wanted to kiss him before he left, just a peck even, but not while the rest of the trio was there.

"I hope so," he answered, disappointment etched on his face as Harry walked away, friends tagging along behind him.

"Oh, and Malfoy!" Harry called back before he went around the shelves and out of sight, "I've got a surprise for you in Potions, so be ready!"

Draco raised an eyebrow. A surprise? What could Harry give him in Potions under the close supervision of Snape, who was, unfortunately, a good friend of his father's?

The thought made his stomach twist into knots and he sat down with his book, frowning. Potter had better not do something _stupid_.

* * *

Draco was able to relax a bit in Potions- so far, he didn't see anything amiss. He and Harry were both sitting in the aisle seats near the back of the room right across from each other, but for the first ten minutes of class, Harry didn't even look at him. It made sense for Potter to act like he didn't care but it drove Draco nuts. Not only that, but it looked like it would be an incredibly boring day- half the time they were in class they were scheduled to take notes of whatever Snape put up on the board.

He was in the middle of writing a sentence about the Eclipse Potion when a little folded up piece of parchment landed on his paper. He looked up quickly-- Snape hadn't seen. Slowly and as quietly as possible Draco unfolded the paper and looked inside. It read, in Potter's sloppy hand, '_Hello handsome_'. Draco smiled a little against his will and wrote back '_And the point of this note is...?_' After making sure Snape wasn't looking, Draco flicked it back and then returned to his notes.

A few moments later, the paper hit his desk, smearing some of the notes where the ink was still wet. Draco sighed quietly and unfolded it, reading, '_I want to meet you somewhere after class. That do-able?_'

Draco drew an arrow to the word _do-able_ and wrote '_Way too many jokes I could make out of that._' Then underneath what Potter had written, he wrote, '_Don't you have a class?_' He looked up to see if Snape was still looking away and jumped a little when he met his teacher's cold black eyes. He felt himself pale and quickly turned back to finishing the sentence on his notes, heart racing.

"Just pass it," he heard a very quiet voice say. "Don't worry about that old sod." Draco glanced over and saw Harry smirking at him. Out of the corner of his eye, Snape glared at them both and then turned to refresh the board with more notes to take. Quickly, Draco flicked the note back and went back to his notes, wondering what the hell had gotten into Potter.

Several moments later, the note came back again. He opened it and read, '_Who cares? The other night was cut far too short, don't you agree, darling_?' Draco sighed and drew another arrow to the word '_darling_', writing '_Damn it, Potter..._' and then continued on '_I agree whole heartedly. Where to_?'

He flicked it back, about to reach for his quill once more before, "POTTER," rang through the classroom, Snape's voice cutting through the silence like a whip. It had the same effect as whip in that everyone jumped and several ink bottles went crashing on the floor.

"Give it to me," Snape said coolly, walking toward him. Harry smirked and held up the unfolded note between his first and middle finger, nonchalant as one could possibly be. Draco, on the other hand, felt sure at any moment he would throw up.

Snape snatched it out of his hand and his dark eyes flew down the paper. One eyebrow raised, and he paused in confusion. "Care to explain this, Potter?" he demanded, voice low.

Harry stood and took the note back, smirk still in place. "I would love to, sir," he said, sitting his glasses on the end of his nose and clearing his throat. Everyone stared at him in surprise, the silence deafening.

"The note was started by me. I wrote, 'Malfoy, see if you can pull your head out of your anus long enough to see how greasy Snape looks today'," Harry started. Draco's mouth fell open, Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth and the rest of the class looked at each other, confused. Was he _mad_?

"Potter," Snape whispered, voice full of venom. "I suggest you stop while you're still alive."

"Oh, no, Professor, I really think I should go on. Anyway, Draco wrote back, 'Shut up you nancing idiot, Snape is always that greasy.'" A few people, Gryffindor and Slytherin alike, giggled quietly, but Harry gave everyone a scathing look. "Shut up, now, you're embarrassing the Professor."

"Harry, what are you _doing_?" Hermione whispered, eyes wide.

"Potter," Snape said coldly, "I'm sure you already know you will be in detention until the happy day I can convince Dumbledore to expel you. After school, every weekday. Under_stood_?" The class went silent, staring wide-eyed at the raven haired boy who was still smirking.

"Hear that, Malfoy? I have detention," he said happily, and began to gather his things. Snape didn't stop him as he left the room, and then the Professor went back to his desk.

"One snicker, and I will curse you _all_ into oblivion," he warned, black eyes daring anyone to even give the slightest of a smile.

"Um, sir," Draco said softly. "Do I have detention as well?"

"No," Snape answered coolly, and sat down. More notes appeared on the board, and the class silently went back to their writing, some people having to share ink.

At the end of class, everyone filed out, some massaging cramped hands. Draco was one of the last ones out, trying to shove everything into his pack while his hands shook. "Stupid papers," he muttered, cramming them into a book. As he started for the door and the classroom became empty, he heard Snape's voice from behind.

"Does Lucius know?"

Draco froze. Snape didn't sound angry anymore, just thoughtful, and when the blond turned to look at him he was leaning up against his board, staring at his desk without really seeing it.

"Um, know what, Professor?" Draco asked, his voice slightly hoarse.

"You and Potter. Does he know?"

"Um..." Snape wasn't an idiot and anyone with half a brain would have figured it out by now, so there was no use denying it. "No, sir. He doesn't."

"Does he know about you?"

"Yes, sir."

Snape sighed very quietly, his mind completely somewhere else. "I can imagine his reaction."

"Sir, are you going to tell him?"

Snape looked up finally. "No, but by the way you two dolts are carrying on I'm sure he'll know any time now. And when he does, I can only bid you good luck," he answered coolly.

"Thank you," Draco said, feeling weak in the knees with relief. "But why aren't you going to tell him?"

"This is where our conversation ends," Snape answered sharply. "Goodbye, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco hesitated but the look Snape was giving him now told him to shut up and obey, and so he did. When he walked out of the room, a hand grabbed him and pulled him away from the door- it was Hermione.

"Harry told me to tell you that if you're going to keep your promise, meet him at the Quidditch pitch," she said quietly. "He said you would know what that meant. Oh- and Draco," she added, now looking confused, "did you notice that Snape actually kept his temper quite well in there?"

It felt a bit weird to be talking to her like this, but he shrugged. "I think that rather depends on what Potter's detention will be, you know? No use in killing him now if you're going to brutally torture him later." The response didn't seem to curb her curiosity and he could practically see the gears turning in her head now.

"Maybe... hmmm," she paused, lost in thought, and then seemed to realize that she was pondering in the middle of a dark hallway. "Oh- right, you should get off. Um, I suppose I'll see you later then?"

"Yeah, see you," he answered, a bit surprised that it was fairly easy to be amiable with Hermione, the Gryffindor that socked him in the mouth in 3rd year. Oh well, he supposed he'd done things just as bad to them in the past.

She shot him a smile and then walked away, leaving him there. He glanced at Snape's closed door, frowning. Had he heard something from Pomphrey? Or maybe he'd just put two and two together- that note wasn't exactly subtle. And why wasn't he off telling Lucius? Well, whatever, he thought, pushing away all the questions until he could mull over them later. He had more important things to do- like the green eyed boy waiting for him on the Quidditch field. A smile graced his features and he hitched his bag up over his shoulder, walking away as well.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm truly sorry that this took so long. I'm not going to promise another chapter soon, but I've already started typing it up, so we'll see.  
Hope you enjoyed.


	6. The Loophole and the Trick

**Chapter Six**

Pansy tapped her nails on her desk, irritated. Ancient Runes started five minutes ago and Draco wasn't present. Ever since their break up the day before, the only thing she'd seen of him was the end of his cloak whipping out of sight. He'd left the common room before she got up and the three places in the halls where they usually met, he was mysteriously absent.

I bet he's with his whore, she thought furiously, her hand curling into a fist. Stupid wench! And when did Draco get the balls to cheat on me?

"Miss Parkinson, please stop pounding your fist on the desk and get out your runes," Professor Babbel intoned, and Pansy glared at her. She'd only taken this stupid class because it was one of the only ones she had with Draco (and Draco had only taken it to get away from her, little did she know) and now that he wasn't here, she felt no desire to even pretend to do work.

"Actually, Professor... I'm feeling rather..." she held a hand to her stomach and pounded her fist on the table. "Ohhh, my stomach hurts so bad!"

The Professor sighed. Pansy was poor at faking an illness, but if she made the girl stay she would only disrupt the class more. "Very well, Parkinson. Gather your things and go to the Hospital Wing, if you can manage--" Pansy was gone before she'd ended the sentence.

She would find Draco, wherever he was, and disfigure his new girl until she was so ugly he wouldn't be able to look at her. No doubt he'd come crawling back then.

* * *

Draco walked down the halls almost silently, gradually making his way to the Quidditch field. He was, for lack of a better word, on auto-pilot; so deep in thought that he let his feet do the honors of guiding him where he needed to be while his head wasn't all there.

Snape. He couldn't believe that _Snape_ of all people would be the one to keep his secret, especially without any pleading or deal-making on his part. Especially after what Potter did...

And then Harry. Harry _bloody_ Potter. Part of him still was in shock that they were together, that the other boy actually returned his feelings without any doubts or even fear, it seemed. Harry didn't care what other people thought of him, he didn't even seem nervous about Lucius finding out even though it might cost him as heavily as it would cost Draco.

Potter... Draco let out a soft sigh, ghosts of Harry's kisses planting themselves on his lips and his neck. Whether he was truly fearless or just infused with standard Gryffindor insanity, it was rather inspiring. Potter would give up all of his free time in detention, his good reputation and would put himself in harm's way just to have a relationship with Draco. It almost made saying 'I don't care' easy.

Those three stupid words were becoming more and more like 'I love you' with each passing moment. However, Draco thought with a small smile, saying I love you to Potter would be a thousand times easier than those other three words.

'I love you' was something he had no reservations about. 'I love you' was most definitely something he could live up to.

Draco Malfoy was not someone given to random and overwhelming emotions, and even less likely to act upon them when they did assail him. But suddenly he was overcome by a very foreign need to please, a need to somehow let Potter know exactly how he felt.

I don't even use his first name, he thought despairingly. What kind of... What kind of _boyfriend_ am I?

He picked up the pace, realizing he was nearer to the Quidditch Pitch than he thought, and in less than a minute he pushed open the doors to the inside and found himself on the field. The cold November air made his breath come out in white puffs and made him shiver slightly, but that was lost on him as he searched for Harry.

Harry was sitting in the front row and lowest set of bleachers, though still high up off the ground. He sat up front, chin in his hand with an air of nonchalance that Draco picked up on even from where he was.

"Harry!" Draco yelled up to him, feeling curiously like the muggle story Romeo and Juliet.

Harry's smile broadened into a grin, the change in Draco's choice of names not lost on him. "Yes?" he replied, voice carrying easily down to the other boy.

"Harry Potter, I--" Draco's voice faltered suddenly. What am I doing? he thought to himself, almost frantic. What if I'm saying it too soon? He'll probably think I'm just saying it to please him, or think I'm chickening out of our agreement. Should I do it now?

"You what? Go on," Harry called down, a little confused but smiling regardless.

"I... I'm just..." Say I love you! "Um... well, what are you doing up there? Come down." He almost cringed with disappointment in himself, and though Harry was obviously perplexed, he walked across the bleachers to the exit.

Draco lowered his head and sighed, thinking that he had completely botched the moment up, when Harry's arms wrapped around him. He leaned into the embrace, closing his eyes.

"What were you doing to say, my dear?" Harry asked, a smirk tracing his lips.

"'My dear' is just as bad as 'darling', you know," Draco said, but without any real conviction.

"Oh, come on, Draco," he said, pulling away to look the Slytherin in the face. "What was it you wanted to say? Don't change the subject."

Draco paused a moment, and then replied rather haughtily, "You never said at what point in time I had to say our agreed upon phrase, so I have nothing to say." Inside, half of him was jumping with joy and yelling 'hoorah for loopholes!' while the other half was beating his head against a wall in shame.

"Oh... I see." Harry looked away, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Draco almost blushed with shame, unable to tell if Harry was actually truly disappointed or if he was just acting. "What? Don't be like that. I'm still going to Hogsmeade with you as soon as the next one comes around."

Harry glanced over Draco's shoulder as though in thought, and then looked him in the eye. "Draco, how much do you like me?"

Draco put all the sincerity he could muster into his reply. "A _lot_. More than I can say." Literally.

"Then this'll be worth it," Harry whispered, but before Draco could think to ask what he was talking about, the raven-haired boy grabbed his green and silver tie, wrapped it quickly around his hand once and yanked him forward, planting a kiss on him that made his knees weak. All five senses were ensnared by this boy, and he moaned softly as he returned the kiss with fervor, arms wrapping around Harry's lower waist tightly. Draco felt the hand that wasn't gripping his tie still go through his robes and touch the grey sweater underneath, Potter running his hand across his abdomen in a way that almost had the Slytherin whimpering.

Then suddenly, a cold, shrill voice cut through the air. "DRACO! Who the _hell_ is that?!"

Shocked, Draco pulled away and glanced behind him, meeting the furious gaze of Pansy Parkinson some ten feet away.

Draco quickly looked back at Harry, mouth slightly agape when he saw the boy smirking once more. "You-- you tricked me! You _knew_ she was there, you evil old _bastard!_"

"Well, I'm not old _yet_, but you've got the idea," Harry said, letting go of Draco's tie finally, and began to saunter toward the exit. "It's your choice what you tell her, my dear. I won't judge you, whatever you say, but please let it be the truth."

Draco stared after him, aware that Pansy was huffing and puffing and demanding answers but too caught up in the fact that his world was crumbling apart at the feet of a Gryffindor who he was now positive should have been in Slytherin.

"Draco! DRACO!" Her voice grew to a tone he was sure would have broken glass and he finally looked at her, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"What in the bloody hell, Draco?" Her voice was slightly hoarse now, but at least it was quieter now that he was acknowledging her. "Was that-- was that Harry Potter? The Boy Who Shouldn't Have Lived? Scar-face? Were you-- were you two-- what the _hell_, Draco?!"

He flinched slightly, frowning, and looked away. "Pansy..." he said quietly, refusing to look at her again. "Pansy, I... I'm... y'know..."

"No, I _don't_ know," she said sternly. "Just grow some balls and spit it out, will you?"

Well, a small voice said in the back of his head, she's right on that count. It's about time you learned to stand up to her, isn't it?

"Pansy." He looked up at her again, but had to squint as though she were too bright for his eyes, as though if he stared too long he would simply melt into the ground. "I'm... gay. I'm gay, alright?"

She stared at him intently for at least 30 seconds like she'd been petrified, and then shook her head violently. "No, _no, _it's not alright! It's not bloody alright, Draco!" She was blushing and out of breath with anger and confusion, and as if it would make everything make sense, she spit at his feet. "Of course, it bloody effin' figures that my first kiss would be with a _fag_."

Draco sighed and rubbed his temples with one hand, bowing his head. He was getting one mean headache, and he promised himself he would make Potter pay for every ounce of pain it caused him.

After several tense moments, Pansy sighed darkly. "Can I just ask you something?" The anger didn't leave her voice, but she was quieter again.

"If you must," he murmured.

"Were you-- were you thinking about him when we made out all those times? When we did things?"

He looked up at her, startled at the question. He thought it would be something snarky, but it sounded like she truly wanted to know.

"No, I didn't. I usually didn't think about _anything_ when we made out."

That didn't seem to please her, but it didn't make her angrier, either.

They fell into a very uncomfortable silence in which she couldn't stand still, fidgeting here and there with stifled impulses to ask questions and get the juicy gossip about him but at the same time not wanting to know enough to really ask. He, of course, wanted to leave and never return, but he couldn't seem to get himself to move, waiting for some punishment from the girl who used to like him.

Finally, he spoke up. "You, um... Are you going to tell everyone?" His very existence hung on her answer but he tried to make it sound nonchalant, as though he were just making sure.

She barked out a laugh. "Ha! _Hell _no! You think I want to be remembered as the girl who dated a fag for four years? I have a bloody reputation to uphold, you stupid git, so you'd better not tell anyone, either, got it?!"

Draco almost smiled. That was Pansy, as usual, only thinking of herself-- and thank goodness for it. "Yeah, I'll keep it quiet," he answered softly.

"Good. I'll talk to you later, then." she said sharply, turning and very quickly walking away. As she walked, she said more to herself than to him, "Your father is going to bloody kill you if he ever finds out, isn't he?"

Draco walked away toward the exit Harry had taken, the brief victory he'd claimed now shadowed with that very thought.

His once tight grip on his secret was being loosened, finger by finger, by Potter. It was only a matter of time before someone put two and two together-- before Pansy blurted it out for her love of gossip-- before someone close to Harry decided to spill everything...

...and at that point, yes, Pansy was right. His father would bloody kill him.


End file.
